Even Of Dead Waters
by Disastergirl
Summary: After the Promised Day they'd thought all the monsters had been defeated. How wrong they'd been.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is a fic that I wrote for the FMA fic contest on livejournal but which I soon realised was going to need another chapter to finish. It was written at the request of mebh, who wanted to read a post-apocalyptic zombie fic involving Mustang and the tachi and, while initially sceptical, I've found myself getting very into the whole thing. _

_As usual, I do not own FMA_

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><p>Ed had never thought it was possible to feel so tired. Even during the long years searching for the Philosopher's Stone or the desperate battles of the Promised Day the world had never seemed as bleak as it did then. Five weeks... it had only been five weeks since the nightmare had started but Ed already felt as if he'd been living it his entire life. Since the military had announced a quarantine on Central City, every day had been the same. A few, scant hours of broken sleep, waking before dawn, followed by hours of exhausting battles as they fought to keep the hoards of mindless, once-human creatures away from their shelter. Every now and then it would be necessary for a few of them to venture onto the streets of Central, to scavenge for provisions or to try and save the few souls left that had not yet been overtaken. They'd managed to rescue twenty three people in the last two weeks alone, one of the few bright spots in the darkness of their lives now. But the extra people meant more food, more medical supplies and so more trips into the city. A group was being sent out almost every day now. Ed himself had been four times last week, usually with Havoc and Armstrong, and Mustang, of course, and he could swear that the creatures were getting stronger every day. He didn't know how long they'd be able to hold them off for.<p>

It was taking its toll on all of them, Ed could see that. There were dark bags under Hawkeye's eyes and Havoc's mouth had twisted itself into a permanent grimace, his usual cheery smile completely disappeared. Ed knew that he himself was running on almost empty; there was never quite enough food to go round and he hadn't gotten more than two hours straight sleep in four weeks now. But however bad any of them were feeling, he knew it was nothing compared to Mustang.

Mustang... if any of them were alive at all, it was because of him. He'd been the one to take control when the first wave of creatures struck, had almost managed to beat them back only for another wave to emerge, stronger and more dangerous than the first. When the severity of their situation became apparent and Central had been walled off from the rest of the country, Mustang had been the one to rally the few survivors, to seek out safe shelter and organise their shell-shocked group into an outfit capable of surviving in the hellhole their city had become. But now... the man looked awful. His skin had paled to the point of translucency and he seemed almost childishly small, the thick wool of his greatcoat doing nothing to hide the weight he'd lost or the way he shivered constantly, even in the heat of midday. If Ed was tired then Mustang was surely almost fatally exhausted but the harsh truth was that there was nothing they could do about that. They needed supplies and it was impossible to go out into the city without Mustang. He was the only one who had any hope of taking on more than a few of the creatures at a time, his flame alchemy being one of the few things capable of killing them. Right now Mustang seemed to be holding himself together, just about, but even a blind man could have seen that he was dangerously close to the edge of his endurance. Ed didn't even want to imagine what would happen when that point came.

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><p>"<em>Wait a minute, Fullmetal. Just what are you trying to say? Those creatures were all destroyed during the Promised Day, or immediately after it. How could these things be related to them?" <em>

"_Dammit, Mustang, did you even read the files on that operation? The creatures weren't all kept in Lab Three, there were about six different groups, all with their own separate projects in different underground labs spread out under Central. How could you not know that? Weren't you meant to be in charge of this stuff?" _

_Their voices were muted but Havoc could hear every word clearly through the stillness of the night. He leaned back against the cold stone of the wall, lifting his head to meet Hawkeye's gaze, seeing his concern mirrored in her eyes. Ed's frustration was understandable at a time like this and his biting tone was only to be expected but Havoc would have thought that even he knew better than to push the boss too far. Not at a time like this, when Mustang's nerves already hung on a thread. But then, they were all under stress right now... _

"_I know that, of course, Edward. Contrary to whatever you may think, I am not a complete imbecile and I can assure you I am quite familiar with the files for this case." Havoc saw Hawkeye cast a worried glance in the direction of the two voices. Her mouth twisted in concern at the undisguised anger in Mustang's voice, exhaustion and stress stripping him of his usual control over his emotions. The general would never normally reveal his feelings so clearly, particularly to Edward, no matter how much the young man might irritate him. _

"_In the weeks after the Promised Day, I led several groups of soldiers into the underground tunnel and we succeeded in finding all six of the labs and destroying any remaining creatures. Clearly _you_ never read the report I submitted after that operation, Fullmetal." _

_Havoc could hear Ed shift his feet, his boots scraping dully against the bare floor. When he spoke again his tone was softer, more subdued, surprising Havoc. "Okay, fine... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just... you know how it is." He sighed, a haunted, unhappy sound. "And don't call me Fullmetal," Ed mumbled, so low Havoc could barely hear him. "I'm not an alchemist anymore." _

"_But still," Ed continued, breaking the moment of heavy silence. "Is there a way you could have missed some when you searched the labs? Not saying you didn't know what you were doing, but these creatures have got to be related to the ones from the Promised Day, there's no other explanation."_

"_There is one possibility..." Mustang sounded calmer now, Havoc thought, but his voice was still laced with exhaustion. He sounded worn, defeated, as if that brief spurt of anger had drained him of all energy. "When we carried out the search, one other lab was empty. It was the one closest to Lab three so we assumed at the time that the creatures must have been released from there too on the Promised Day. We searched the surrounding area thoroughly and found no trace of them so we thought that was the end of that. But now..."_

"_They must have already escaped." Ed breathed. "Of course! They've been hiding under Central all this time, waiting for the right moment to attack us." He sounded as disturbed as Havoc felt. He thought of the many thousands of times he'd walked through the streets of Central, never imagining the horrific things that lay just beneath his feet, biding their time. After the Promised Day they'd thought all the monsters had been defeated. How wrong they'd been. _

_There was a dull thump of metal hitting stone, most likely Ed kicking the wall in anger. Havoc couldn't blame him- he felt like doing much the same. For a long time, Mustang made no reply, the silence stretching out like a rope between them, taut and quivering. _

"_It's my fault then." He spoke at last. "I lead the search for the creatures; this is all my responsibility." Havoc looked up to see Hawkeye biting her lip, all her attention focused in the direction of Mustang's voice. He could see how badly she wanted to go to him, every instinct in her body telling her to rush to his side. But this was a conversation they were never meant to hear, that Mustang would not want them to have heard, no matter that their eavesdropping was purely accidental. Havoc wished he'd never started listening. The defeat in Roy's voice... it terrified him. _

"_Don't be such an idiot, Mustang." Ed snapped back, anger clear in his voice. "Like you were supposed to know that this was going to happen. I told you, those creatures must have escaped long before you guys got round to clearing the labs. They're not like the ones from the Promised Day, you know that. These things are _smart- _if they wanted to hide, there's no way anyone could have found them. So stop blaming yourself." _

"_Fine." Mustang replied. "You're right, of course." But Havoc could tell he did not really believe it. That was the thing about Roy, he took everything upon himself. Every injury, every death he was unable to prevent... they hung around his shoulders as heavily as if he had struck the killing blow himself. Havoc had experienced the full weight of that guilt first hand after the attack by Lust. _

_There was a pause and then Mustang spoke again, contemplative. "But how can you be so sure, Ed? Even before I told you about the empty lab you were convinced these creatures were from the same place, despite all the differences between them. What do you know that we don't?" There was a sound of rustling, something being pulled out of a bag, from the sound of it. Havoc couldn't help himself; his curiosity got the better of him. He inched forward against the wall, ignoring Hawkeye's warning glance and peered round the corner, careful to avoid notice. Not that he needed to worry about that- both Mustang and Ed were completely focused on the book Ed held in his hands. The light was bad- they hadn't had electricity for weeks and candles were a poor substitute- but Havoc could still make out the shape of an array on the page Mustang had opened. An alchemy journal? _

"_This book contains the research notes of the scientists working on the creatures in Lab three," Ed explained after a while. Mustang didn't look up at him, still absorbed in turning the pages of the journal. Havoc ducked his head away from the corner, not wanting to risk being caught. "I found it about a week or so ago, during a supplies raid. You probably remember the one. I was with Al and Armstrong at the time, we'd been separated from the rest of the group for a while and had to take shelter in the lab when a group of creatures came out of nowhere."_

"_I do remember that," Mustang murmured. "Everyone was so worried about you." _

"_Yeah," Ed replied, sounding awkward. Ed had grown up a lot in the last three years but there was something about being around Mustang that seemed to transform him back into his fifteen year old self, angry and self-conscious and unsure. Ed had never liked Mustang being concerned over him and it was no different now. "Well, anyway. The lab was pretty bashed up; I think the creatures must have been there before. All the equipment was destroyed, doors broken down, that kind of thing. There was some kind of safe hidden in one of the walls, normally you'd probably never be able to see it, but like I said, the place was wrecked. I was able to open it pretty easily and once I found that book I knew I couldn't just leave it there. I've been looking over it all week and it's amazing, it's got notes on all the different projects in each of the labs and detailed breakdowns of the alchemy used to create all the creatures."_

"_It's encrypted... but the code doesn't seem too hard to break. I expect it hardly took you any time at all." Some energy had returned to Mustang's voice no, along with something Havoc hadn't heard for weeks; hope. "Ed, you must know what this means. If we know how the creatures were made, we can figure out how to stop them, maybe even how to prevent them from transforming anyone else. This could save us, Ed! Why didn't you tell anyone else about this sooner?" _

"_I'm telling you about it now, aren't I?" Ed muttered. "I wasn't sure at first if anything would come of it, I didn't even know if the information would be important or not, never mind whether we'd be able to use it to fight these things. But I've been working on it for a week now and I think-"_

"_Do you have an array?" Mustang interrupted him. "Ed, do you have something that could get rid of these creatures?" _

"_Hey, hey, slow down a bit there, Mustang. I'm still working on it. I've got an array but it's nowhere near finished yet, it's still far too unstable to use. I'm not even sure exactly what it does... I'm hoping we'll be able to use it to prevent people from becoming like the creatures if they get bitten, but it's definitely not ready to do that yet. The risk of rebound is still far too great, for one thing." The caution in Ed's voice was a great contrast to Mustang's excited tone. The warm burst of hope that had enveloped Havoc at Mustang's question cooled down a little but did not burn out completely. They still had _something_... it might not work right that moment, it might not be able to bring back those they had already lost but it was still a start. One day they would be free from the creatures. _

"_Can I see it?" Mustang asked. There was more rustling of paper and then a long silence as Mustang poured over Ed's array. He muttered to himself as he examined it, words that Havoc could not make out and suspected he wouldn't understand even if he could. After a while, Mustang broke the silence. "Well, of course this would never work, Edward. I mean, just look at the instability in that hexagram there. Are you trying to get us all killed?" _

"_Oh yeah, like you could do any better!" Havoc could almost hear the smile in Ed's voice. "Fine, then, if you're so clever, you tell me what it should be!" _

_Havoc looked over at Hawkeye as the bickering continued, feeling almost like old times as Ed steadily became more and more wound up. She smiled back at him, a tired, hopeful smile, seeming to mirror what he was thinking. _Perhaps, after this, everything will be alright, after all.

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><p>Havoc was the first to see it happen. The excursion into the city centre had only meant to be a short trip, only a small group of them searching for some key supplies. The creatures had descended upon them as if from nowhere while they were walking back to the shelter, dozens of them, as if they had been waiting for a moment such as this. They had fought them off so far, but in a battle like this, casualties were just a matter of time. Havoc heard the pained gasp, quiet amongst the sound of gunfire and the inhuman screams of the creatures, but audible still because it was <em>her<em> voice and hadn't they been looking out for each other for all this time? He turned horrified eyes backwards, first towards the mangled corpse of the creature lying dead at her feet and then inescapably upwards, to the bite wound on Riza Hawkeye's neck, red blood dripping down her pale skin. His eyes met hers, his gaze stunned, disbelieving, hers grimly resigned. She had prepared for this eventuality a long time ago and she knew what she must do. But Havoc would not- could not- allow it. There was still time- those who the creatures had bitten usually had at least a few minutes until the taint took a hold of their soul. More still for those who were strong enough to fight it. And Havoc knew that Hawkeye would fight against it with everything she had. Whatever the risks, Havoc could not let Riza end her life before she had a chance to say goodbye to Mustang.

Mustang... where was he? Havoc's eyes scanned the crowded scene, quickly picking him out despite the turmoil before him. He stood alone, as always when she was not with him, a single figure against the encroaching hoards of creatures. His flames were the only thing keeping their small group from being overwhelmed; wave after wave of inhuman figures disappearing in a mass of heat, smoke and unearthly screams. If Havoc broke Mustang's concentration now it could be only too easy for the creatures to break through. But he knew he had no other choice.

"Mustang!" his head turned at the sound of Havoc's voice, clear and far reaching even over the cacophony of the battle. Mustang's eyes- better even than Hawkeye's ever since the Stone- picked them out instantly, taking in the scene with a single glance. A moment later he had turned his attention back to the creatures, that stream of soulless bodies that showed no signs of relenting, but that one, short glance was enough. He knew what had happened.

"What are you doing? Stop it!" Hawkeye grabbed Havoc's arm as he shouted for Mustang, her eyes wide with panic. Her fingers dug into his wrist, firm and unyielding even as her voice shook with anger and fear. "You can't... I don't want him here!"

Havoc frowned, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady her. Hawkeye shook it off roughly. "Riza..." his voice was pleading. "You can't keep this from him. What..." he swallowed back his emotions, forcing himself to carry on speaking. "What's going to happen is inevitable but you can't deny Roy the chance to say goodbye. You've got a few minutes until it takes hold and I know you want to see him too, so please, don't fight me."

"You don't understand!" She shouted at him. Her whole body was trembling, tears spilling unheeded from wild eyes. "Yes, I have a few minutes, but you know Roy won't leave me when they're up. And what then? When I become a monster who wants nothing more than to kill you all? Roy will have to kill me then, and I just can't allow that to happen, Jean. I can't make him go through that."

"You won't have to." Havoc promised her. He said no more but he knew she understood. _I don't want to kill you, but I will. _There was no other choice now; nothing could be not yet._ Just a few more minutes, just let her hold on for a little longer... until she can say goodbye._

Before she could reply, a bright burst of light filled the street, a wave of heat rushing through them from a distant explosion. It shook the ground beneath their feet, sounds like far off thunder echoing off the abandoned buildings. Havoc turned to see Mustang silhouetted against the destruction, nothing but charred corpses where the swarming mass of creatures had been. His arms were still outstretched before him and he was swaying on his feet. Ed rushed over to him before he could collapse but after only a few seconds Mustang pushed him away and half ran, half stumbled towards where Havoc and Hawkeye were standing.

Hawkeye was crying openly by the time he reached them, although Havoc knew her tears were not for herself. It was not her death she feared, but what her death would do to the one person she loved most. Havoc glanced at Mustang's face as he stood before Hawkeye and immediately wished he hadn't. Such grief was not something that was meant to be shared. He turned away, moving to stand by Ed, both of them useless, terrified; waiting for the awful moment they knew there could be no escaping. Ed's face was white, a picture of shocked disbelief. Havoc was sure he looked the same. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mustang bring a shaking hand up to Hawkeye's face, saw her lean into the touch.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Roy."

"No," Mustang spoke calmly but there was something wrong about his voice, some unnameable quality that Havoc had never heard before. He didn't know what it was but his instincts screamed at him to run. "No, I can't allow this to happen. I... I just can't. I'm sorry, Riza."

Something about the way he said those last words... Havoc spun round, suddenly, sickeningly sure of what Roy was about to do. He remembered Ed's words from that night, remembered the hope... the array was meant to save those who had been bitten, wasn't it? But it was still so new, so unsafe... surely Roy wouldn't risk all their lives for such a slim hope of success? He already knew the answer to that question, he realised, as Ed ran forward, screaming at Mustang to stop. Too late. Far too late.

Mustang clapped his hands. Blinding light filled the sky.

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><p><em>Thanks for reading! Please review if you have the time. I'm going to try and bring out the next chapter pretty soon. <em>


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hey, sorry I've been so long updating this fic (anyone who's read more than one of my stories should know by now that I am notoriously slow at updating). I'm afraid this isn't going to be the final instalment, I've got another chapter on it's way that should hopefully finish off this story. In the meantime, enjoy chapter 2. As usual, I do not own FMA._

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><p>Havoc didn't know what he'd been expecting. A terrifying explosion, perhaps, or maybe for the Gate of Truth to open before them and swallow Mustang whole. But nothing like that happened. As soon as it had come, the bright burst of white light faded to nothing, leaving Mustang kneeling, trembling, in the street, holding Riza's body in his arms. So that was it then, Havoc thought: Riza was dead. The array had failed to save her. Havoc had been prepared for it, of course, had been ready to strike the killing blow himself if need be, but even the inevitability of her death could not stop the pain of that realisation from slamming into him with full force. He choked on his breath, his stomach churning and bright, angry spots shimmering across his vision. They had been together for so long... worked together, fought together, laughed together... imagining a world where she was no longer among them seemed almost impossible. How would any of them cope without her?<p>

Except... something was not right. Ed and Armstrong had crowded around Mustang but their movements did not seem distraught but rather brisk, concerned. As if their actions could make a difference any more...as if there was still hope. Havoc saw Ed lean down to take a pulse from Riza's limp wrist, saw him nod to Armstrong and, moments later, saw what had been in front of his eyes all along, what he had not dared to believe. Hawkeye's body was a dead weight in Mustang's arms, her skin was shockingly pale, but her chest was rising and falling steadily, each breath strong and unbroken. She was alive.

Before he even knew what had happened, Havoc had pushed past Ed and Armstrong to kneel on the ground next to Mustang, both of them gazing at Hawkeye's unmoving form. She looked so dead, only the unwavering pull of breath betraying her as living, and as the long minutes dragged by, she gave no sign of rousing from her unconscious state.

"Damn it, Mustang, what the hell have you done?" Ed burst out, his voice echoing in the silent street. He rushed forward as if to shake Mustang but Armstrong held him back with a single hand. Mustang gave no indication of having heard Ed but instead raised his eyes to meet Havoc's and for the second time that day Havoc found himself flinching away from his commander's gaze. There was something in there that was sharper than despair, more insidious than madness. Tears cut swathes through the dirt streaked across his face but he seemed to take no notice of them. All of his attention was focused on Havoc, like a wild dog ready to flee or strike.

"She's not dead," he whispered, his whole body shaking so hard Havoc worried he would not be able to hold Riza. He moved to take her from Mustang's arms but he clung to her like a child refusing to part with a much loved toy. Hawkeye's head lolled from side to side as Mustang shifted her closer to him, blood still dripping its slow, sticky way down her neck from the bite the creature had given her. Her hair had come undone from its clip and now trailed on the ground, tangled and dirty. Mustang lifted his head to look at Ed and Armstrong, savage laughter escaping him, the sound sending shivers chasing up Havoc's spine. He glanced back to see Ed barely able to hide his horror. "She's not dead!" Mustang laughed, a desperate edge to his voice. Ed knelt down next to Havoc, drawing Mustang's attention towards him. The young man looked visibly shaken but was trying him best to remain composed.

"Mustang, you have to tell us what you did." Ed spoke softly, all traces of anger gone. There was a slight tremor in his voice that he was struggling to control, but whether his fear was for Mustang or of him, Havoc could not tell. "What did the array do to Riza?"

Mustang frowned at him, an expression of mild bemusement and long suffering patience in the face of stupidity. It was a look so typical of so many interactions between the two alchemists in the past and to see it now, when their old lives were little more than half remembered dreams, was almost more than Havoc could take. "What did I do?" Mustang seemed to consider the question. "I saved her life. I stopped her from turning into one of those creatures, using the array you showed me."

"Okay," Ed sighed. "You're right, Hawkeye's definitely alive and she hasn't progressed any further in the transformation." He was speaking to Mustang as if he were a small child or particularly stupid but Havoc supposed he couldn't be blamed for that. Whether it was a result of the alchemy, the emotional strain of nearly losing Riza or just pure physical exhaustion, the man was clearly unstable, maybe even dangerous. The horrific thought crossed his mind that Mustang's loss of control may be permanent, his mind bowing under the weight of thousands of burdens and tragedies, but Havoc pushed it firmly to one side. If that was the case, they would deal with it when they had to and they could gain nothing from worrying about it now. "But the transmutation can't have worked completely," Ed continued. "She hasn't moved at all since you activated the array and she's shown no other signs of waking up. What went wrong in the transmutation?"

"_I don't know_!" Mustang screamed and this time Ed did flinch back from him, just a little. "Do you think I _wanted_ this to happen?" he drew in a deep, sob-like breath, his fingers twitching as they curled around Hawkeye's shoulders. "The array should have been perfect! I don't know why it didn't work, I just..." Mustang's face was a ghastly white beneath the grey dust and ash and his breaths were the harsh, desperate gasps of a drowning man. "I don't..." Havoc moved before he'd even realised what he was doing, grabbing Hawkeye as she fell from Mustang's trembling hold. Armstrong had rushed forward too, catching Mustang before his head could hit the cracked paving stones. The big man stood, lifting Mustang's unconscious body easily. His face was unreadable. Perhaps this was no surprise to him, Havoc thought, remembering how he and Mustang had served together in Ishval. Cradled against Armstrong's broad chest their commander looked almost like a child, shockingly small and far frailer than they had ever allowed themselves to realise.

Havoc struggled to his feet, gladly accepting Ed's support as he stood. Hawkeye wasn't particularly heavy but he was still badly shaken. Ed moved forward, surveying the street with cautious eyes, searching for signs of any remaining creatures. But there was nothing but silence and the stench of burnt flesh still drifting through the air. Havoc could feel the precious movement of Hawkeye's breathing as he carried her through the rubble and smoke and he struggled to blink back tears when he thought of how close they'd come to losing her, how far they still had to go to truly bring her back. If such a thing were even possible, of course. He could see Armstrong walking before him, Mustang's head falling over his arm. His face, stained with tears and dirt and white with exhaustion, had surrendered to the enforced peace of unconsciousness, all traces of sorrow or rage wiped clean. A temporary respite, nothing more. And Havoc's tears were for him too, for the unfairness of it all, that so much could be taken from one person, when he had already suffered so greatly. He wondered briefly what would happen to Mustang, should he be unable to recover Hawkeye from her state of limbo, before realising that such questions were pointless. He already knew the answer. The real question was what would happen to all of them, the ones who would be left behind.

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><p>Breda watched the shadows dance over his commander's face, the flickering light of the fire casting ever-shifting spectres across the room. From the corner of his eye he could see Armstrong sitting back against the far wall, his gaze never leaving Mustang's sleeping form. They had kept this silent vigil for almost three hours now, ever since the group had returned, their general and his most trusted lieutenant unconscious to the world. Breda had watched as Havoc and Armstrong walked through the heavily guarded gates of the compound, Mustang and Hawkeye's bodies pale and unmoving in their arms. For a few, endless, unbearable moments he had thought they were dead and the world lurched sickeningly around him as he struggled to accept the magnitude of such a loss. Havoc had hurried to explain to them all that their leader was still alive, saying little more than that General Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye had been injured on the trip into the city; the general was expected to recover soon but Hawkeye's situation was less certain. In private, however, he had confessed to the team the true nature of what had taken place, no longer trying to hide the fear in his voice or the grief in his eyes. Breda had volunteered to join Armstrong in watching over Mustang, everyone agreeing that he should not be left to wake up alone.<p>

Breda shuffled over to the fireplace, throwing another few handfuls of coal onto the flames. Fuel was one of the few things that was still relatively abundant; every house in Central had a coal cellar and it was something the creatures had no interest in. Breda poked at the fire for a few moments, sighing when a vicious draft swept through the room, scattering the slowly gathering warmth. It wasn't that it was particularly cold in the room- both he and Armstrong had shed their jackets not long after lighting the fire- but Mustang had not stopped shivering ever since they had brought him in. He was practically buried under blankets and coats, curled up in the pile of rags that passed for a bed in the hellhole they lived in, but still it made no difference. Breda had wondered, in moments of almost whimsical despair as the hours dragged on, if Mustang had simply given up, his body no longer caring to fight for life in a world where he had lost so much, but he had quickly dismissed those thoughts as ridiculous. Mustang was stronger than that. While there was even a chance that Hawkeye could be saved, he would fight for it with everything he had.

Mustang muttered something in his sleep and both men tensed. Breda glanced at Armstrong and could see the same anxiety reflected in his eyes. They had no way of guessing what state of mind Mustang would be in when he woke up, and neither of them wanted to break the news to him that Hawkeye had shown no change. They stayed frozen, waiting, for several long moments but Mustang made no further sounds and both men slowly allowed themselves to relax. The wind whistled through the walls once more, the minor irritation suddenly seeming intolerable to Breda. He moved away from the fire, not returning to his place next to the door but instead sitting down beside Armstrong. The other man glanced over at him in surprise but made no comment.

"These drafts..." Breda muttered, mindful not to disturb the room's sleeping occupant. "Can't you do something about them? Fix the walls with alchemy, something like that?"

"I have considered it," Armstrong spoke equally softly, his voice a low rumble. "But both Edward and General Mustang consider it likely that the creatures are attracted towards alchemic power and I believe they may be correct. Certainly it is not something I would wish to risk, given our," he hesitated, casting a glance towards the corner where Mustang was lying. "Present situation. I don't have to tell you how dangerous it would be to draw their attention at a time such as this."

Breda sat silent for a moment, considering Armstrong's words. It was true, now he thought back on it, that the worst of the attacks always seemed to come soon after someone in the shelter had used alchemy. Both Mustang and Armstrong had tried to avoid relying on alchemy but they were not the only alchemists among the survivors and many others were not so restrained. Just their luck, that one of their few advantages over the creatures would also turn out to be a dangerous weakness.

Seeming to mistake his silence for anxiety, Armstrong reached over and placed a large hand on Breda's shoulder, the gesture lacking in all the grandiose displays of affection he had once been renowned for. The last few weeks had drained the joy from all of their spirits. "I shouldn't worry too much about General Mustang," he said, his eyes not quite meeting Breda's as he spoke. "He's recovered from worse than this before."

Breda looked back at him but the big man said no more, settling once again into silence. He didn't need Armstrong to elaborate; he knew he could only have been talking about Ishval. Breda knew almost nothing about what had happened during the war, but the little he had heard was enough. Mustang had almost never spoken of his experiences in Ishval but he had told them enough for Breda to be able to imagine the horrors that lay hidden behind what Armstrong had told him. Breda had never thought he would see that side of his commander, the side the stories spoke of. He had seen the spectres that gathered in Mustang's eyes when they had first stepped foot on the sands of Ishval after the Promised Day, the way the Ishvalans ran from him as he walked through their streets but he had never imagined he would ever see that same fear in eyes of his own comrades. The way Jean had looked when he walked through the gates... _"I... I don't know what happened, Breda, I swear he's gone mad. I thought he was going to kill us all..." _Breda forced the memory away, trying his best to take comfort in Armstrong's words. Mustang would get through this. He would find a way to save Hawkeye and they would carry on as they always had. There was simply no other option.

They both looked up at the sound of gentle knocking on the door, which was pushed open a moment later by a tired and harried looking Ed. "Armstrong, we need you to come and talk to some of the people out here. They want to speak to an alchemist." Ed seemed too exhausted for bitterness but Breda could tell how hurt he was. He had never resented giving up his alchemy to save his brother but the fact that he was no longer considered qualified to even give advice on alchemical matters; that had to sting.

Armstrong left the room with Ed, giving one last troubled glance at Mustang before softly shutting the door. Now alone save for his unconscious commander, the silence seemed somehow even more oppressive. Breda moved back towards the fire, watching the last remnants of the day's light disappear through the gaps in the boards across the window. It was getting colder now but his jacket had long since joined the others heaped on top of the figure in the bed and, besides, Mustang needed it more than he did anyway. His eyes moved back to stare at the fire, needing the sight of something abstract, something unconnected to the horror their lives had become. But the flames reminded him too much of Mustang, of the way the creatures crumbled under his fire and the way he was slowly crumbling too, under the weight of a heavier burden than any one person should have to carry. Breda had never felt so useless in his life. In all the challenges they had faced before, he had been able to help in some way, to contribute his knowledge and intelligence to the problem. But now, Mustang was standing alone against an ever-growing enemy and there was no one that could truly be of help. Even Ed and Armstrong could only do so much.

The sound of confused murmuring and the rustling of blankets broke Breda away from his thoughts and he turned to see Mustang struggling to sit up, tossing away the blankets and coats he was buried under and clutching his head in one hand. Breda rushed over to him, remembering to keep a cautious distance between them. Havoc had been afraid of Mustang before, had feared he would be dangerous. He didn't seem as if there was anything wrong with him now, but it was too soon to be sure.

Mustang lifted his head, staring at Breda with sleep-dulled eyes. "Breda? What are you doing here? Is everything..." He stopped and Breda could see remembrance dawning, confusion and fatigue dissolving into frantic, panicked anguish. "Where's Riza?" he gasped, pushing himself upright with shaking hands. "Has she recovered? What's going on?" He grabbed Breda's collar, gazing at him with a desperation Breda had never seen before. It unnerved him, no matter how much he had been expecting it. He looked down at the floor, unable to meet Mustang's eyes as he gave the news.

"Riza's in the other room. She... she's still unconscious. She's breathing fine and she hasn't undergone any... changes... but we don't know when she's going to wake up." Breda lifted his head, risking a glance at Mustang. His eyes were closed, his face devoid of all expression. His hand fell from Breda's shirt, hitting the pile of blankets with barely a sound.

""I've failed her." he whispered, his voice echoing with defeat. Breda had never thought he would hear such a tone in the voice of his daring, volatile, brilliant commander, but Mustang was far from that man now, had not been for weeks, and the words fell far too easily from his lips.

"I was so sure the array would work," Mustang continued. "I knew there were risks but they were nothing compared to... to losing her. But now... I know what must have happened. The transmutation equilibrated, leaving her trapped. She's no longer turning into a creature, but she can't become human again either. She won't ever be able to wake up when she's stuck like this." He spoke dispassionately, as if distant from the horrors he described. But Breda could see the way his fingers were turning white as they dug into the rags on the bed, twisting and tearing at the tattered fabric in a frantic, unconscious movement. "She would have been better off dead."

"But Riza's _not_ dead. She can still be saved." Breda didn't know what made him speak out, except the fact that he had never withheld an opinion from Mustang before. It was why he was valued, after all. But as Mustang turned his dark, desperate gaze upon him, Breda found himself wishing he'd kept his mouth shut. A memory of the fear in Havoc's voice as he talked of Mustang came back to him with sickening clarity but he forced himself to keep on talking. Mustang was reeling and distraught but he had not yet lost himself. Breda had no cause to feel afraid. "You can't just give up on her yet, Sir. While she's still breathing, you've got to do everything you can. Modify the transmutation; find a way to bring her back."

For a long moment Mustang did nothing but stare at him and Breda could only imagine the turmoil of the battle being fought behind those eyes. He nodded finally, seeming to have arrived at some kind of decision, and when he spoke again it was with the same confidence that drawn them all to him for so long. "You're right. I want to see Riza... please, take me to her."

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><p><em>AN: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you can, I love to hear what people think. x_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Sorry about the really long wait for this chapter everyone! Particularly to the lovely mebh, who this fic is for. As usual there's no real excuse, I'm just slow. At the suggestion of my wonderful beta, Antigone Rex, I've decided to make this story 4 chapters long instead of 3 so we've got one more chapter to go after this. _

_Thanks to Antigone for all the help and encouragement she's given me these last few weeks. As usual, I do not own FMA and all that. Hope you enjoy the story!_

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><p>The room was unnaturally quiet; Riza's gentle breathing the only sound to disturb the stillness. She lay on her makeshift bed, arms by her sides and legs straight, as if laid out for burial, a ring of candles casting sickly, flickering light over her skin. She had only a thin, tattered blanket to cover her but she did not shiver. Nor did she twitch or mumble or turn in her bed: none of the natural movement of a living, sleeping person. Nothing but that soft, incessant breathing, never varying in speed or depth; almost too quiet to hear yet somehow cacophonous in the tiny space.<p>

Ed watched from the doorway, hardly daring to make a sound. He started as Havoc came up behind him, moving softly as they had all learnt to do when near this particular room. "He's been there for nearly ten hours straight now." Havoc gestured towards the bed where Mustang knelt, gazing at Hawkeye's motionless form, diagrams and drawings scattered around him in an obsessive, desperate array. Ed was sure he was aware of the presence of his silent watchers at the doorway but he made no movement to acknowledge their arrival. They were simply not important to him. "I tried to suggest that he get some rest but he won't hear of it. He just spends all his time staring at her, when he's not working on that damn array."

Ed nodded, never taking his eyes away from the scene before him. In the week since Hawkeye had been bitten they had made it their business to never let Mustang out of their sight for longer than a few minutes. It was an implicit, unspoken agreement among Mustang's core people but one that was understood by all those who shared their shelter, ever since the truth about Hawkeye's condition had eventually been explained. Even those who had never known him from before, who had seen him only ever as the fire-wielding saviour who rescued them from the clutches of the creatures, could recognise the darkness in him now.

Finally Ed spoke, his words as muted as Havoc's, mindful of the man who sat not six feet away from them. "He believes that array can save us all."

"Can it?"

Ed shrugged, a gesture that spoke of hope long since abandoned. "Perhaps. But I can't imagine how. The energy that would be required to destroy all those creatures... it'd take a Philosopher's Stone or something close to it."

Havoc sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. "I don't know much about alchemy, but I know Marco said that the stone that the boss used to fix my legs and eyes was the last one in Amestris." He closed his eyes, suddenly looking far older than his thirty-two years. "There's no way out of any of this, is there?"

Ed opened his mouth to reply but jumped at the sound of hammering on the door at the other end of the room. Images flashed in his mind of catastrophe, of invading hoards of creatures or unknown terrors. Everyone knew by now never to disturb Mustang.

"Let us in!" A voice called. Ed recognised it; Anna, one of the first people they had rescued and an amateur alchemist. Her voice was loud and strident, sounding angry rather than panicked. Ed didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. "We want to speak to Mustang!"

"About what?" Havoc called back, his eyes darting towards the room where Mustang still sat, unmoving, staring at Riza. "We've already said, unless it's an emergency, please don't come up here."

"Why not?" Anna shouted back. The knocking on the door grew louder until it seemed as if the crowd might burst through the thin wooden boards or destroy the fragile barrier altogether. "So the legendary general can just sit alone for days on end, staring at that lieutenant of his, not doing anything to help anyone else? She's already lost! Give up on her! It's the rest of us you should be worrying about. We're running out of food, no one's been able to go outside since lieutenant Hawkeye got bitten and if this carries on we'll be starving soon! There are small children here!"

Almost as if on cue, the cry of a baby rang out through the walls, a helpless wail that spoke of hunger and weeks of confused, primal terror. Ed hung his head, trying to block out the sound. He thought of Winry, four months pregnant when he'd left her for Central, thinking he would be only a few weeks away on business. How quickly things had spiralled out of control. Winry would be almost ready to give birth now. Would he ever get to see his baby? Or would he only have succeeded in bringing another fatherless child into the world?

With effort, Ed brought his mind back to the present moment, to the tiny, darkened room where he stood, helpless, as always. "Look, I know it's difficult," Havoc was saying. The door was opened now, only halfway, enough so Ed could see Anna staring past him, her dark eyes angry and accusing. There was a crowd of people gathered around her, all with the same lean, hungry, shadow-haunted gaze. "But we just have to trust General Mustang. He's working on an array that will get us all out of here. He'll be able to save us from these creatures, I know he will." Havoc's voice was calm, steady, but Ed thought he detected a desperate note in there, some hidden current of doubt. Anna was quick to seize upon it.

"Trust General Mustang, trust General Mustang... that's all you people ever seem to say now." She stepped further into the room despite Havoc's attempts to stop her. Ed found himself moving closer to the open doorway at the end of the room, trying to block Lieutenant Hawkeye from Anna's prying gaze. Her voice had taken on an almost mocking tone now, and Ed could hear murmurs of agreement growing louder behind her. "When're you going to realise that he's not perfect, this beloved general of yours; that he isn't always right? Sure, Mustang might have brought us all together, and I think no one here will deny that he helped us in the beginning, but now? We've got almost no supplies left and the creatures are getting closer every day, and what's he doing? Shutting himself away with that woman that he doesn't even have the decency to admit should already be dead!"

Anger rose inside Ed, threatening to boil over. Mustang was the only reason any of them were alive now, did she not realise that? He had brought himself to the brink of exhaustion every day working to keep these people safe and provided for and now, when he needed their support most, they turned against him. As for Hawkeye... memories of the lieutenant flashed through his mind; her kindness, her loyalty, her rare, quiet smile. To hear her spoken of in such a way was almost more than he could take.

Ed stepped forward, ready to voice his anger but stopped when a hand rested lightly on his arm, holding him back. Without saying a word, Mustang moved forward, the angry whispers of the crowd falling silent when they saw him. He moved, trance-like and slow, brushing past Havoc to stand face to face with Anna. A look of fear crossed the dark haired woman's face, a momentary falter before her defences returned.

"What were you saying about my lieutenant, Anna?" Mustang's voice was calm and he spoke softly but as the light caught the side of his face, Ed had to force himself not to take a step back. His face, already pale and shadowed by hunger and exhaustion was twisted into something almost demonic. "She found you, if I remember, hiding with your children behind a pile of rubble, creatures surrounding you on all sides. You would be dead if it weren't for her."

"I will always be grateful to Lieutenant Hawkeye for rescuing us," Anna's voice was shaking, but she refused to back down. "But the woman who saved me and my family died the day that creature bit her."

"Don't say that." Mustang spat, a slight tremor in his voice. "Don't you dare say that."

"But it's true!" Anna shouted. "Why can't you see it? Why can't _any_ of you see it?" Her eyes darted around the room, searching Ed and Havoc's faces for any sign of sympathy. Ed looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "You've been hiding away in that room for over a week now," Anna continued. "And what have you achieved? Lieutenant Hawkeye's still dying, those creatures are still on the loose and we're still all shut here unable to even go outside. You keep promising us an array, but where is it? If this continues, we're all going to starve to death and it'll be your fault!"

Mustang lurched forward, grabbing Anna's collar, his face inches from her own. Ed glanced at Havoc but the older man shook his head, the warning clear in his eyes. _Do not interfere_.

"I owe you people _nothing_." Mustang hissed. He backed Anna up against the wall, her head inches away from that lantern's open flame. The flickering light cast ghastly shadows across the scene, betraying Mustang's shaking hands and Anna's wide, terrified eyes. "If you're so unhappy here, then why not leave? See how long you'd last out there against the creatures! Go on, I won't stop you!" He let her go, pushing her back towards the door with startling force before collapsing against the wall, his head hitting the bare stone. The entire room was silent, all eyes watching Mustang. The man was clearly in the midst of some great struggle, his eyes closed and an expression close to anguish shadowing his exhausted features. Terror twisted in Ed's heart at the sight. Just what secrets was Mustang keeping from them?

"I have an array," The words were spoken so softly as to be almost a whisper but they echoed in the confines of the tiny room. "It's nearly ready; I should be able to activate it tonight. It'll destroy all the creatures." Mustang's head slumped forward, his eyes hidden behind the fall of his hair. "Just another few hours and you'll all be free. That's what you wanted, isn't it, Anna?"

Anna looked up, glancing at Havoc in desperation. She opened her mouth to reply but stopped when Havoc shook his head. All of her anger was gone now and Ed couldn't help but feel sorry for her, despite the cruel things she had said. Her concerns were shared by everyone, however unwisely she had chosen to voice them.

"Get out." Mustang whispered. He stumbled towards the door, his hand white-knuckled as he gripped the handle. "All of you, get out!" The crowd fled, Anna among them, and Mustang slammed the door behind them. He leaned heavily against the wood, all his strength spent in that short burst of violent action.

Havoc was next to him in an instant. He draped his arm around Mustang's shoulders and guided him back to the other room. With a gentleness that belied the stern set of his features, the lieutenant set Mustang down on the floor, only a few inches from where Hawkeye lay, still and silent. Mustang reached out to her, his fingers brushing strands of hair away from her pale cheeks. His other hand reached for hers, lacing their fingers together. For a long moment he did nothing but stare at her. Ed moved into the room, standing side by side with Havoc. Mustang ignored them both. It wasn't until Havoc broke the silence that he finally looked up.

"There was no need for that, Roy." Havoc's voice was calm but Mustang's shoulders hunched at his words. His face was carefully guarded showing none of the tumultuous emotion present only moments before. How had the fearless, confident leader who had held them all together for so long been brought so low? In his teenage years Ed could remember thinking of Mustang as smug, insufferable, even callous at times, yet he had never doubted his ability to overcome any adversary that stood in his way. It seemed that even years later, after all that had happened, he hadn't quite outgrown that childish faith. They had all been looking to Mustang to save them, demanding things of him without ever wondering if they were even in his power to give.

"I know." Mustang sighed. His voice was like dry leaves across a stone floor. "I shouldn't have reacted like that. But the things she said..." He trailed off, turning away from them. Ed crouched down, facing Mustang across Hawkeye's body.

"Is it true?" He asked. "Have you finished the array?" Ed hesitated, trying not to let any of the hope that had built up inside him into his voice. "Can I see it?"

Mustang nodded yet every line of his body betrayed his reluctance. He searched through the piles of notes on the floor and found a single sheet of paper, holding it out to Ed without meeting his eyes. Just one glance told Ed everything he needed to know. Mustang's secrecy, his violent outburst, his lack of concern for his own health... they all made sense now. The array was beautiful, incredibly complex, something he would have been proud of when he was an alchemist and yet...

"This will kill you."

Havoc gasped, rushing over to kneel next to Ed, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Mustang said nothing, further confirming Ed's suspicions. "But you already knew that, didn't you? It would have been obvious the moment you started sketching the array. How could you have kept this from us?"

Mustang laughed, a cold, empty sound that raised the hair at the back of Ed's neck. "Because I knew how you'd react, of course. But it's no use. There's no other way. I tried so hard to find one but there's no getting past equivalent exchange. This is what has to be done."

"Roy," Havoc spoke quietly, all traces of anger drained from his voice. He put a hand on Mustang's shoulder, waiting until the alchemist looked up to meet his eyes. "You are not responsible for everything that has happened. You don't have to do this."

"But I do, Jean." Ed looked away, not wanting to interfere with what was passing between the two soldiers. The bond between Havoc and Mustang was far greater than just that of commander and subordinate and Ed could only imagine what Havoc was feeling. The thought of losing Mustang was terrible yet Ed knew it must be far worse for the members of his team. They were truly a family, in ways Ed had only just come to appreciate. "It was my fault for not realising that the creatures had escaped and as a result of my failure, hundreds of people have died. There's no other way that we can be free of the creatures. And I need to put this right, any way I can."

Havoc started to object but fell silent with a single glance from Mustang. He nodded once, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Ed wanted to reach out and offer comfort but what could he possibly say to make this better? Mustang was right- damn him- there was no other way. The array demanded a life and, as always, Mustang would be the one to take that price upon himself. Ed dreaded to think what would happen to Hawkeye when she awoke to find her general lying dead beside her. She would never forgive them, he knew. Well, she'd find no objections there. Yet as much as he despised himself for it, Ed knew he would do nothing to stop Mustang from going ahead with his plan. He was right; it was the only way any of them could hope to survive.

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><p>Roy shivered, wrapping his coat tighter around himself. He could barely remember what it felt like to not be cold, to not be one step away from collapsing at any moment. Still, he reminded himself, in only a few more moments such concerns would never bother him again. The thought was so morbid he almost laughed out loud but he couldn't bring himself to disturb the silence that had settled over the room. He had sent the others far away, to the opposite side of the building where they would not be harmed if the transmutation lost control. None of his team had wanted to leave but he gave them no choice. He was almost certain that the array was safe, that it would work, but not certain enough to gamble any of their lives on it. He would be the only one to die tonight.<p>

Again, that laughter, joyless and uncontrolled, threatened to burst out of him. Roy clamped his lips shut, scrubbing his aching eyes with the back of his hand. What was wrong with him? Perhaps Ed and Havoc were right to look at him the way they had that morning. No, he knew they were. There was something wrong with him, that much was obvious. He hadn't meant to be so violent towards Anna but the way she had talked about Riza... It would have been easy for him and his team to have left Central, before the walls went up. Grumman had practically begged him to do so. But they had stayed to help those who were not able to defend themselves, risking their own lives to rally the survivors and find them shelter. It was because of Anna and the others like her that Riza was in this situation; because of them that he was preparing the array that would kill him.

Roy looked down at the array at his feet and shivered again, this time not from cold. The circle was vast and complex, taking up almost all the space in the small room, the dark, intricate lines stark against the bare stone floor. It had taken him the best part of an hour to draw out, his eyes straining in the flickering lantern light, but now it was finally ready. It was time to begin. Taking out a small knife from his pocket Roy made a shallow cut across the palm of his left hand, slicing just below the faint pink scar already marring the skin there. He turned his hand upwards and watched as the blood fell onto the centre of the array, the drops mixing with the dust and half dried paint, staining the pale stone a dirty red. His blood would serve a double purpose: to amplify the power of the array and to ensure that the life claimed as payment by the transmutation was his and his alone. No one else would pay for his mistakes. He tied a rag around his bleeding palm, gritting his teeth as the rough cloth bit into the open wound.

Ignoring the pain, Roy stepped out of the circle, turning his attention to the sleeping figure on the bed. He knelt down beside Riza, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. His fingertips were almost blue with cold yet her skin was warm, almost feverish. Her face was so calm. It was as if she was simply sleeping and he could wake her with a kiss, like a prince from the stories of his childhood. If only things were that easy. He leant over to kiss her anyway, his lips barely ghosting over hers, the last kiss he would ever give her. There were so many things he wanted to say to her still, so much they had always left unsaid. He only hoped that she knew already.

Blinking back tears, Roy lifted Riza from the bed, carrying her over to lie next to the array, just outside its lines. He was weaker than he'd been in years yet she felt almost insubstantial in his arms, as if she could slip from his hands and disappear forever. He laid Riza out on the floor, fighting back memories of the last time he had seen her like this, her life's blood draining away beneath her fingers. But he was not helpless this time. He would be able to save her, even if at a price she would find too high to accept.

He stepped away from her, placing himself in the centre of the array. The lantern was running low on fuel, casting sinister shadows across the intricate lines of the circle, transforming the beautiful array into something hideous. Only fitting for a transmutation that would bring nothing but destruction. Taking a deep breath he focused his mind on the array, on the complex reactions behind the strokes of paint, reaching within himself for the energy to drive the transmutation. He held his hands out and clapped. The sound echoed off the walls, startling and absolute. And then Roy saw nothing but white light.

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><p><em>Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you can.<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Omg, last chapter! ... possibly. Still undecided about whether or not to do an epilogue. Let me know what you think and if enough people want one then I'll add one in. Mebh, your opinion is particularly important here of course. :) And I hope you like this chapter and it's like you wanted it to be. Sorry it took so long!_

_A huge thank you to my lovely, wonderful, amazing beta **Antigone Rex**, she is amazing and I almost certainly wouldn't have finished this without her. Go check her writing out, it's great. Also be sure to check out** mebh**'s stuff if you haven't already, her writing is absolutely wonderful. As usual I do not own fma. _

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><p>"Is that everyone?" Havoc called. The windows were boarded up, every crack and loose stone in the wall sealed over. Over a hundred people sat in the darkness, clutching whatever weapons they had been able to find. Mothers gripped rifles as their children clung to their skirts, their eyes shining with unshed tears. By the far wall a baby was wailing.<p>

"All in! Breda confirmed. He pulled the heavy doors closed, Armstrong and Falman rushing to help. Havoc glanced down at the pocket watch Armstrong had given him. Twenty to six. Roy would activate the array at six o clock; that was what they agreed. When he did, they would all have to be ready.

"Alright!" He shouted, his voice echoing in the crowded hall. "You all know what's going to happen. In twenty minutes now, General Mustang will activate his array and all the creatures in Central are going to come running towards us." He prayed Roy had been wrong about that but they needed to be prepared for the worst. Both Roy and Armstrong believed that the creatures were attracted by alchemy. A transmutation such as Roy's... it would bring the whole city down upon them.

"The general believes that the array will be able to destroy all the creatures before they get close enough to harm us, but he can't guarantee it. We have to be ready to defend ourselves if the creatures attack." A murmur of fear rippled through the room but it was quiet and short lived. These people were civilians, yet they had seen more terror and death in the last few weeks than many soldiers ever would.

"All those who volunteered to defend the wall, come and see me!" Havoc called. He saw many people glance around in confusion but a small few stood up calmly, following him without question. Armstrong had seen to it that they knew what to do. Havoc walked over to the eastern wall, the weakest part of the dilapidated building. Dozens of buckets stood in the corner, filled to the brim with pitch and motor oil and petrol, anything that would burn. If the creatures managed to get through it would surely be there and these people would be ready. He handed the buckets out to the line of people that had formed in front of him, pausing only when he saw a familiar- and unexpected- face.

Anna accepted the bucket with steady hands, meeting his gaze as if daring him to challenge her for her decision. Her children, haunted and hollow-eyed, stared up from behind their mother's tattered coat. The eldest of them was clutching a small knife. He was about to move on but Anna grabbed his arm, her eyes falling to the floor as she spoke.

"General Mustang... this array he's designed... it's too strong, isn't it? It's going to require too much energy." Her voice was soft, with no hint of its previous anger. Of course, Havoc realised, she was an alchemist too; she must have figured it out. "Will... will he be alright?"

Havoc hesitated. But the memory of Anna's mocking words flashed through his mind and he spoke before he could stop himself. "No, Anna, he won't. But don't worry. You and your children will be."

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><p>There was nothing but white. The emptiness stretched out without end, no boundary line or marker to give meaning to the expanse. The otherworldly plane could have gone on to infinity or ended a hair's breadth from his fingertips; there was no way to tell.<p>

He knew this place.

The emptiness stirred memories he'd tried for years to forget, sending panic fluttering through his veins. Roy forced himself to calm his breathing, wishing he could do the same for his heart. The scars on his hands ached.

"Just couldn't stay away, I see."

The high, thin tones seemed to pierce his mind directly, speaking to _him_ without the interference of his ears or brain. A mocking, broken imitation of his own voice, just as it had been last time. Roy gritted his teeth, forcing himself to turn around and confront the thing that wore his form. It seemed he had barely begun to move and the creature was standing right before him, so close he could reach out and touch it. If such a thing were possible, of course. As before the thing wore the shape of his body, the faintest of outlines separating its own emptiness from the vast expanse around it. The same cruel, impossibly wide smile stretched across its face, the smile he had seen in the darkness behind his eyes more times than he wanted to remember.

"What is it you want this time then, General? Hmmm?"

"You know what I want." His voice was steady but he knew it made no difference. This creature could see through all his fronts and deceptions, could see his fear and his attempts to hide it. "And you know what I'm prepared to pay for it."

The Truth laughed. "Indeed I do." Its grin seemed to grow even larger as it leaned towards Roy. "Well then, General... shall we begin?"

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><p>Havoc threw down another lit match, watching as the latest wave of creatures, already soaked in pitch, burst into flame. Their bullet-ridden bodies blackened and crumbled, their grip on the building's edge failing as the fire ate through them. Havoc watched through the gap in the boarded windows as another wave clambered over the bodies of their comrades, their doll-like eyes blank and staring, empty of all thought. Havoc didn't know how long it had been since Roy had activated the array; it couldn't have been longer than a few minutes yet it seemed like hours.<p>

Ever since the first burst of alchemical power shook the building, the creatures had been relentless. They had crawled out of every corner and crevice of the city, a stumbling mass of half-formed bodies and wordless hunger. They hadn't yet managed to break into the shelter, but it was only a matter of time. He could hear the steady thud of creatures throwing themselves against the walls, clawing at each other to reach the windows, the weakest part of their defences. Just how long would this go on?

_Hurry, Roy... please..._

Even as he thought it, Havoc felt guilty. He knew that as soon as the creatures were destroyed Roy would die too, that every second they fought these monsters was another second his friend still lived. But he didn't know how much longer they could keep the monsters at bay. If the creatures weren't destroyed soon, he knew they would all be killed.

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><p>The pain was like nothing he had ever experienced. Roy could feel it uncoiling from somewhere far inside him, the same bone-deep sensation of indescribable loss he remembered from when the Truth had stolen his sight. But this was far worse. It felt as if he were dying a thousand times over, drawing breath only to die once more, each life ripped from him as cruelly as the last. He sank to his knees, his hands curled around himself as if the wounds were physical, as if he could somehow stem the flow of his soul from his body. Distantly, he was aware that he was screaming, sobbing, tears streaming down his face as he knelt at the feet of his tormentor. But he couldn't bring himself to care. In the back of his mind he could sense the creatures being destroyed, could feel them crumbling into dust as if their deaths were his own. He could do nothing to stop the pain.<p>

It ended without warning. Roy gasped for breath, clutching a hand to his chest. His heart was racing, a frantic, confused rhythm. He felt drained; weakened and more exhausted than ever before. Yet he was still alive. How could that be possible? The transmutation had worked, he was sure of it. So what had been the price?

"You seem confused."

Roy glanced up. The Truth was standing over him, its eyeless face staring down at him. He tried to stand but collapsed to the ground again, a wave of dizziness overcoming him. Stars danced in the corners of his vision and it was all he could do not to throw up. The creature above him said nothing, but somehow Roy could sense its amusement. Ed always said the Truth was a sadistic bastard.

"That wasn't what you were expecting, was it?" It continued. It laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "You humans can be so unperceptive sometimes."

"What do you mean?" Roy asked. His voice was little more than a whisper, his throat aching from the screams torn from it only moments before. "What price did you take?" The sick feeling of dread inside him grew stronger, curling around his stomach and squeezing at his heart. He was grateful that his life had been spared, but what had the creature taken from him instead? Could its judgement reach beyond him and into the world of the living, to strike at those he loved? Would their deaths be his fee? He could accept anything except that.

The Truth laughed again. "You really don't know, do you?" It knelt down until it was face to face with Roy. The emptiness where its eyes should have been seemed to stare into him. "I took your Philosopher's Stone. The one you've been carrying around inside you ever since you offered up enough souls to fix your eyes. Did you really think such a small thing as your vision would require such a high price? I never take more than is required. After everything you've been through, do you still know so little about Equivalent Exchange?"

Roy stared back, unable to respond. Could what the creature said really be true? Aside from the return of his sight, he hadn't felt any different after Dr Marco had used the Philosopher's Stone to heal his eyes. How could his body have absorbed the Philosopher's Stone without his knowledge? But through his confusion and disbelief a faint spark of hope emerged, growing stronger with every second. The creatures had been destroyed and he had not needed to die. He could return home. He could be there when Riza awoke, watch as her beautiful brown eyes opened, see her smile again.

Except... something was wrong. He had felt the death of every creature through the transmutation, had experienced every twist and turn of the reaction yet he had sensed nothing of Riza. He knew, somehow, that the array had not touched her. She was still trapped, still caught between life and death and now he had nothing left to bargain with.

The Truth watched him, dispassionate as always. "There's more, isn't there?" It asked. It leaned its head to one side, a note of impatience in its voice. "You humans never stop wanting more. You want me to save her, don't you?"

"Yes... please," he could barely endure the indignity of begging this creature for help yet he knew he had no choice. "Take whatever price you want from me. If you can bring her back, I don't care what happens to me."

It leaned forward, its insubstantial fingers brushing against Roy's cheek, just below his eyes. Roy could feel nothing. It was a complete lack of sensation, a total emptiness that made him shiver, wanting to pull away. "I think you already know what I want from you," The Truth murmured. "Just that which is already mine by right. That's all I ask."

_Already its by right_... the creature would take his vision again, sending him back into the darkness and this time there would be no return. His mind recoiled at the thought of being so isolated again, so vulnerable, so _useless_... yet he knew the loss of his sight would be inconsequential compared to losing this chance to save Riza. Whatever happened to him, he had to bring her back.

Wordlessly, Roy nodded. He closed his eyes as the Truth's grin widened, its empty, unnatural smile etched onto the darkness behind his eyelids. It seemed to hang there, suspended in the blackness; the last thing he would ever see. Its laughter filled his ears and he felt its fingers brush against his eyes again and then... nothing.

* * *

><p>Havoc spun round, firing a single bullet into the eye of the creature that had broken through the boards of the window. Its hands reached up instinctively to clutch at the wound, losing its grip on the window frame as it did so. Havoc watched as the creature fell back into the seething mass of bodies only to be replaced seconds later with yet more grasping, hungry hands. It had not taken long for the creatures to break through the wooden boards on the windows and now they reached eagerly into the room, their jaws open wide and their doll-like hands grabbing at arms, hair, weapons- anything they could reach.<p>

A snapping sound alerted him to the presence of another creature behind him and he turned, bringing down his knife quickly enough to stop the thing from biting his head from his shoulders. The creature howled, blood gushing from the wound in its shoulder but it grabbed the knife from Havoc, throwing it to the ground before he could try and reclaim it. The thing carried on climbing through the window, shattering the remains of the boards as it broke into the room, its thin fingers reaching out towards him. It grasped him by the arm, its grip far too strong for something so seemingly frail. He shot it, but no amount of bullets seemed to stop it; they only to delayed its attack. Some of the creatures were like that- seemingly invulnerable, immune to any injury or damage. Only fire could harm that kind.

Havoc could see Armstrong and Ed glance his way, alarm written clear on their faces. This was the first creature to successfully breach their defences but they all knew it would not be the last. Already dozens of others were fighting to reach the widened gap in the wall, pulling apart the already splintered and weakened boards. Another body started to wriggle through, and then another, and another. Ed, Armstrong and Breda were on them in an instant, cutting down each one before their feet had even hit the floor, but the line of creatures never seemed to end. Havoc heard a click and felt the familiar lightness of the gun in his hands that could only mean one thing. He had run out of bullets. His knife was gone, his gun was empty and now there was nothing at all between him and the creature. Its other hand reached towards him, grabbing him by the throat. He gasped for breath, kicking against it in a last desperate attempt to break free.

A sound like a vast influx of rushing water filled the air and Havoc's eyes snapped shut as a flash of pure, white light illuminated the room. He forced his eyes open again as the light faded, blinking and disorientated as the screaming began. The creatures were burning, their flesh consumed by pale blue flames, so bright as to be almost invisible. It had begun then. Roy's transmutation. He had said it would destroy all the creatures in an instant yet somehow Havoc had never imagined _this_. The creature released Havoc and he staggered backwards, driven back by the intense heat of the fire. He watched the thing burn before his eyes, writhing and screeching in agony until the flames scorched its lungs and seared the flesh from its bones. Within moments all the creatures were gone and not even their ashes remained.

Havoc gasped for breath, his eyes meeting Ed's across the suddenly empty space. The young man stumbled over to him, his blond hair streaked with blood, knives clutched tightly in both hands. He looked as shaken and exhausted as Havoc felt but otherwise seemed unharmed. From what he had seen, it seemed no one had been seriously injured in the fight. Another few minutes and Havoc was not sure they would have been as fortunate.

"He did it." Ed muttered, raising his eyes to meet Havoc's. "Mustang did it, the bastard." There was wonder in his voice, joyous relief and exhilaration at having survived. But Havoc could also hear the pain behind his words. They both knew what this meant for Roy.

Havoc knew he should take charge, do something to help the shaken, lost people gathered in the room, but he just couldn't move. Around him, everyone was still struggling to accept what had happened. He could see people staggering through the room as if through a thick fog, others collapsed, motionless, to the floor. Some were weeping silently, some laughing so hard they could barely draw breath. This time, no child cried.

But somewhere, someone was screaming. It cut through the chaos of the hall, through the sound of sobbing and laughter and the shuffling of feet against stone. It was faint yet it pierced through him sharper than any of the other horrors they had seen and heard that day. He knew that voice.

_Riza._

Of course... of course! How could they have forgotten? She had been with Roy at the moment the array was activated and she would be there still, waking from her strange, suspended state to find Roy lying dead beside her. It was simply too awful to contemplate, yet they had allowed it to happen.

He looked across to where Breda was standing, helping Maria Ross to gather all the lost and discarded weapons that lay on the floor. Breda met his eyes before glancing upwards, his hands clenched at his sides. Havoc knew he recognised Riza's voice too. Without saying a word, the two men turned together, running towards the stairs. Riza's room was far above them and on the other side of the building. Havoc could only hope that they made it there in time.

* * *

><p>Riza awoke in darkness, alone. All around her was silent and she could feel the chill of stone beneath her cheek. She struggled to sit up, exhaustion and dizziness washing over her. Her body felt heavy and stiff and her arms shook as she pushed herself up to sitting.<p>

What had happened to her? She remembered the battle, the sharp pain of the creature's bite and the worse pain of knowing that she would have to leave her friends, that her death would destroy Roy. She remembered the devastation in his eyes as he saw her injury, the tenderness in his hands as he reached out towards her. The way the pain in his eyes had darkened, twisting into a terrible resolution, far too quickly for her to react. There was a flash of light and then- nothing.

Vague shadows of memories flitted through her mind; murmured voices just out of reach, the sensation of weight across her chest and figures moving past her in the darkness. Above all, Riza remembered his presence. Whatever had happened, Roy had been with her the whole time, she was sure of that. But he was not here now.

Slowly the darkness began to fade, like layers of fine veils falling away from her eyes and she realised where she was. It was one of the rooms in the shelter, the one where Roy usually retreated when he needed some peace to study or to talk with someone in private. A lantern burned in an alcove in the wall, its light weak and flickering, casting sickly shadows across the room and illuminating the stone floor beneath her. She was lying beside a vast array, its intricate, alien lines mapped out in black paint, a few drops of blood standing out against the pale stone.

The sight stirred a sickness inside her that grew only deeper the more she studied the array. She had never been properly taught alchemy but she had grown up surrounded by it and she could easily recognise some of the basic symbols incorporated into the complex pattern. The symbols for sublimation, for multiplication and ceration, for the exchange of a soul. The symbol for death.

_Roy... Roy, what have you done?_

The air suddenly seemed too thick, too heavy, and she struggled to pull it into her lungs, each breath a desperate gasp. Her stomach churned and it was all she could do not to be sick. She was a soldier, she reminded herself as she fought to keep the panic under control. She needed to keep calm and assess the situation rationally, no matter how awful and unavoidable the conclusions seemed.

A sound like a breaking wave filled the room and there was a painful flash of white light. Her eyes closed instinctively, her arms flying up to protect them. When she opened her eyes again, Roy was there, lying in the centre of the array. He was curled on his side as if thrown by some unseen force, his face turned towards her. He seemed far smaller than she remembered, lines and shadows etched into his face that had not been there before. His eyes were closed and he was not moving.

Riza rushed over to him, moving as fast as her weakened limbs would allow. Her knees ached from crawling across the stone and stars danced in the corners of her vision as she struggled to regain her breath. Ignoring the protests of her fragile body, Riza rolled Roy over onto his back, putting a shaking hand up to his mouth to check that he was still breathing.

He wasn't.

She fought back a scream. She lowered her head to his chest, listening for a heartbeat, for some sign of life but again, nothing. His face was so pale, almost grey, and drawn with pain. The screams she had been holding in broke free as she shook him frantically, her sight blurring as tears filled her vision. Some part of her knew she had to calm down, that her panic would do nothing to help Roy. Gasping for breath, Riza tried to remember the steps of resuscitation that she learnt as a cadet but it was impossible. All her knowledge had scattered in the face of her exhaustion and the sight of Roy's motionless body lying beside her. She could do nothing but sob, helpless in the face of this nightmare. She cursed her uselessness with each shuddering breath, screaming for someone to help, knowing that even if anyone could hear they would still be too late.

Movement... she could feel movement beneath her hands. Roy's body convulsed violently and he gasped like a man saved from drowning. She clung to him as his gasps turned to sobs, wanting to be strong for him but unable to stop herself from weeping too. Terror and relief and gratitude wrung huge, breathless tears from her and her arms shook as she wrapped them around his neck. Within moments Roy regained control of himself and she let him go, knowing he needed space.

"Riza?" He brought his hand up to touch her cheek, his fingers brushing against her hair. He still had not raised his head to look at her and there was a soft note of question in his voice that set the sickness stirring inside her again. Why was he not looking at her?

"Yes, Roy, I'm here." It hurt to talk, her voice rough with disuse. But she saw his shoulders relax almost imperceptibly at the sound, as if he had been unsure that it was truly her. Although surely he could have confirmed it if only he'd looked up. The light was dim in the small room but it should have been enough for him to see her. A terrible suspicion flitted through her mind but she pushed it away. She could not afford to torment herself with possibilities. "What happened to you? What happened to _me_? I can't remember anything..." Still he said nothing. His refusal to meet her eyes terrified her. "Roy, look at me. Please?"

"I'm so sorry, Riza." He looked up at last. Riza could see the tears on his too-pale cheeks reflected in the flickering lantern light. "I just couldn't let you die. I found a way to destroy the creatures and I did what I had to save you. There wasn't any other way." His eyes were open and fixed in her direction but he was not truly looking at her. His gaze was unfocused and distant, _empty_ in a way that was only too familiar. Her stomach churned and her breath caught in her throat. No... _no_... not again...

"What have you done?" She breathed. "Why has this happened?" She didn't want to accept it but she could no longer avoid what she could so clearly see. Roy was blind once more; his sight stolen by the creature that called itself Truth. And this time she knew there would be no way of getting it back.

Riza listened in silence and wonder as he explained, his voice soft and filled with pain, so different from his normal commanding tone. It was a difficult story for him to tell and even harder for her to hear. She listened as he told her of the transmutation he had attempted on her and the strange, half-dead stasis she had been caught in, of the days he had spent scrawling transmutation circles on scraps of paper, of his confrontation with Anna and the distrust of the other survivors. She could hear the words he didn't say in the shadows under his eyes and the sorrow in his voice. How he had forgone food and sleep to spend every possibly hour perfecting the array, how he blamed himself for losing control with Anna, how people had whispered that he was going mad and he had started to believe them.

She clenched her hands into fists as Roy told her about the array, how he had activated it believing it would kill him but knowing there was no other choice. She smiled in amazement at the revelation of the Philosopher's Stone and dug her nails into her palms as he explained- his voice faltering and his head bowed- how the Truth had forced him to give up his sight once more in exchange for her life. She had never wanted to cause him any suffering but she knew she couldn't blame herself for this. She would have done the same and would have paid the price gladly rather than let him die.

"I don't know what I'll do now," He finished. He shot a rueful smile in her direction and if she ignored how his eyes didn't quite meet hers, it felt the same as so many other times before. She reached over and curled her fingers around his hand, squeezing lightly in reply. "I know there's no chance that I can get my sight back this time. But perhaps I can still be of use to this country somehow."

She pulled him closer, letting him lean against her. Her strength was rapidly returning and she could sit up easily now, but he was weak with exhaustion and still shaking from his journey to the Gate. She smiled as she felt his chest rise and fall, marvelling at how close they had come to losing each other and how lucky they were to have survived, even if at such a high price.

"Roy, you saved Amestris from a horde of undead creatures that the rest of the military turned and ran from. If it hadn't been for you, it'd only have been a matter of time before the creatures escaped the walls and destroyed the rest of the country. Right now, I think the people are far more likely to listen to you than to anything the military says."

They both knew it wasn't as simple as that, of course, but she felt sure the situation would not be as hopeless as he imagined. Warmth spread through her as she saw him smile at her words, but it disappeared in an instant as she heard footsteps thundering in the corridor outside.

"Riza?" Roy sat up, suddenly alert, his sightless eyes darting around the room, searching for the source of the sound. His hand twitched helplessly at his side; he was ungloved but she knew he would not dare attempt flame alchemy even if he were armed. It was simply too dangerous, even with her eyes to guide him. She wished she had her gun with her.

The door burst open, a pale faced, blood-splattered Havoc standing in the doorway, shock painted across his face as he took in the scene before him. He tore across the room, sinking to his knees before them both, tears forming in his eyes.

"Riza, oh god, are you alright? And Roy... Colonel... you're alive! How..." Havoc paused, struggling to catch his breath. "Riza, god, when I heard your voice... I thought... I thought..."

"It's alright, Jean," Roy broke in. Riza marvelled at how easily his voice slipped into the calm authority of command despite all that he had been through. "I know what I told you but I was wrong. The Truth didn't ask for my life as payment for killing the creatures. It took my sight again, but considering how bad things could have been..."

For a moment Havoc looked stricken at this news, disbelief flashing across his face at the calm, resigned way Roy announced his loss. But then he nodded once, drawing in a deep breath before speaking again.

"The array worked, Colonel. All the creatures disappeared and injuries to both civilians and military personnel are very minor. Breda will be getting here shortly, he can help me take you both back to the main hall, we have medics that can look at you there..." A huge smile broke across his face, standing out in stark contrast to the tears streaming down his cheeks. "I... I can't tell you how happy I am that you were wrong this time, Roy."

Roy laughed, the first sign of joy Riza had heard from him for far too long. "For once, I feel the same way, Jean." His hand sought hers again, linking their fingers together.

"Even though the creatures are dead, things aren't going to be easy from now on. But I've been given a second chance," His thumb stroked across the back of her hand, his fingers soft against her calloused palm. His eyes still glanced in the direction of Havoc's voice but she knew his words were meant for her. "And I mean to make the most of it."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading! Please review if you can, it will make me happy. x<em>


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